inevitable
by lusterrdust
Summary: Life is never normal when living in Beacon Hills, but Lydia's grateful for her pack. [stydia]
1. Chapter 1

unbeta'd.

most likely will have grammatical errors and run on sentences but I tried my absolute best, I assure you.

please enjoy.

* * *

The steel chair was cold against her thighs in the Sheriff's office. Lydia focused her attention to her now ruined manicure and she grimaced. A strong hand placed itself over hers and she looked up into the concerned eyes of Sheriff Stilinski. "I'm sorry," She frowned, feeling upset. "I should've gotten there faster. I knew he was in town but I just couldn't focus enough on where."

"Lydia," Michael sighed before giving her a reassuring smile. "There's no way you could have known it was after one of your students."

"But I should've!" She cried out, her tears finally slipping past her barrier and running down her cheeks. "It's been years since I was this out of tune with my abilities! And it cost his life!" Lydia threw her head down on the desk over her folded arms and let out a sniff, still angry at herself.

At twenty four, Lydia had spent the past year substituting as a teacher in all different grades and subjects before she found out (to her pleasant surprise) that she really enjoyed teaching younger children. For the past four months she had a permanent position as a second grade teacher at Beacon Hill's Woodland Elementary School. Things had been calm since she'd returned from Stanford. Up until six days ago when an alpha from a different city decided to root itself in Beacon Hills and completely maul the family of one of her students.

Lydia wished her pack was home, but they wouldn't be moving back until after the summer was over. Unlike Lydia, Scott and Stiles had decided to take a year off (which, let's be honest, did not go over well with the Sheriff and Melissa). However, both had gotten their butts in gear and enrolled themselves into a community college before Scott had gotten accepted to US Davis' Veterinary Medicine, and Stiles agreed to move with him as roommates while he trained to be a sheriff's deputy.

While most would say Stiles wasn't pursuing his own dream, Lydia knew for a fact working in law enforcement had Stiles totally in his element. She couldn't have been more proud of them. Kira had moved to New York after high school with her family but moved back to Beacon Hills after she graduated from NYU and followed Lydia's steps in teaching, becoming a professor at the community college while still taking online classes to get her PhD.

Between the four of them, there were many road trips and late night Skype calls. Another thing Lydia was grateful for was over the fact her and Kira had bonded over a serious case involving a wendigo about a year ago. The two shared an experience without the rest of the guys and there was instantaneous fondness that sprouted between the banshee and fox.

"Come on." Michael interrupted her thoughts, getting up and walking around the desk toward her. She felt his hand on her shoulder and stood up shakily, letting him guide her out of the office and to his car. He called out to the deputies working the night shift that he'd see them in the morning.

"I'm sorry." She repeated, looking at the man who'd she had come to see as a father figure in her life. He was tired and the dark circles under his eyes confirmed that. It didn't pass anyone's common sense that he missed his son terribly.

He waved his hand dismissively. "None of that now." His lips lifted up in a small smile. "I texted Melissa, she'll have a cup of hot cocoa ready when we get home. You, young lady are not staying by yourself tonight. Not while that alpha is still out there and Kira's out of town." He paused for a moment before quickly adding, "Not to say you can't defend yourself."

Lydia's eyebrow rose and she couldn't fight off a grin as the cruiser passed her apartment building. "It's been a while since I've stayed over. Thank you, Sheriff." Relief filled her as she realized she didn't want to be alone. And since Kira was visiting Scott, Lydia had been flying solo on this new case with the help of Derek and Michael. However, the murder of her student and his family had her nerves and emotions in shambles.

Stuart had been the brightest student in her class. He brought her an apple every week and constantly had lunch with her and Lydia couldn't help but feel maybe the fact she was his favorite teacher made him a target in some way. Of course, it didn't help that his parents were hunters and she didn't have the slightest clue until earlier that night.

Melissa was waiting at the front door when they walked up and without a word, Lydia was pulled into an embrace before she let it all out as heavy sobs wracked her body.

"Oh, sweetheart." Melissa whispered, placing a kiss on the side of her head. "Come on, let's get you inside."

At the kitchen table, Lydia informed what had happened earlier that day to Melissa while Michael sat with patience as she recounted the story he'd already heard. After a couple hours of talking, Lydia felt her body give in to its exhaustion before she excused herself from the couple and made her way up to Stiles' old bedroom.

There were some pictures on the wall that she hadn't seen since he'd left and she studied each of them with a creeping nostalgic feeling. Ones with the old pack... Allison. One with him and Scott when they were young boys. One with their pack before graduation. Lydia's throat felt tight as she thought of the fact Stuart would never have these memories. Her favorite seven year old student, who was constantly willing to learn and hyperactive and had glasses too big for his face. He was torn to shreds because of the life his parents had led. An innocent victim in all this.

Lydia felt her face scrunch in grief and she took a deep breath before wiping her tears away. Walking over to the dresser, she pulled out an old lacrosse jersey and slipped out of her clothes, chuckling at the thought of a thirteen year old Stiles not knowing eleven years later she would be standing in his bedroom naked before slipping his jersey on.

She picked up her clothes and folded them lazily before turning the lights off and climbing into bed, thoughts of a certain seven year old haunting her thoughts before she fell into a restless sleep.

ll

It had been close to four in the morning when Stiles had snuck into his childhood home. When his dad had called him earlier that day about what had happened and how it affected Lydia, both he and Scott agreed he would take a week off from work. He had accumulated a lot more vacation hours since his promotion a few months back and while he wouldn't exactly refer to this as a vacation, he was definitely eager to see his family again.

Quietly, he walked up the stairs and peeked his head into his dad's room, smiling goofily when he saw both his dad and Melissa cuddled together, looking peaceful. Biting his lip, he very slowly and very carefully closed the door before walking to his bedroom. He clicked his lamp on and set his duffel bag on his chair before he halted in surprise at the sight of women's clothing folded messily on top of his desk.

Stiles whipped his head around at the sound of a whimper from his bed. Strawberry blonde locks peeked from under the covers and were washed over the pillow in disarray. Okay, Lydia was in his bed. Naked? He choked on the thought, before he exhaled loudly at the sight of his jersey on her. He was about to linger on that discovery before another soft cry left Lydia's lips and he knelt down by the bed. As he was closer, he frowned at her tear stained cheeks and felt his heart clench painfully in his chest. Reaching up, he cupped her cheek and moved his thumb gently across smooth skin. "Lydia,"

Her eyebrows knit together before he called her name again and her eyes slowly blinked open. Lidded but full of emotion, Stiles felt his heart break as moisture pooled in her eyes and he quickly kicked his shoes off before climbing into the bed with her. Lydia scooted to make room for him, and accepted his embrace. She wasn't sure why or how he was here but she wasn't going to waste time together asking, so she just clung onto him while he rubbed her back.

"I'm so sorry, Lyds." He told her, realizing just how much she must really care for her students. He knew his dad told him she was upset, but he hadn't realized it affected her this hard and it hurt him to know she felt this way.

"He was only seven, Stiles." Her voice cracked as she tried to speak. "And he was ripped in half... Oh God, it was so..."

"Shh, it's okay." He told her, knowing it wasn't. He hadn't seen the murder site, but his dad had informed him it was gruesome and Lydia had walked right into it during one of her banshee trances. "I'm so sorry."

"Please, don't leave me tonight." She pleaded into his neck.

Stiles shook his head, "Of course I won't." He told her adamantly, nearly breathless as olive colored hues met his and he was almost floored with the vulnerability in them. "Never."

Lydia felt her heart skip at his admission before pressing her lips softly against his. The pain left momentarily and when she pulled away she saw how wide Stiles' eyes were and she reached up to run her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck before gradually succumbing to sleep.

Stiles was frozen in shock at what had happened and he wondered briefly if she'd remember any of this in the morning. He stuck his tongue out, tasting his bottom lip and realized he would worry about it later. For now, he had Lydia in his arms, sleeping comfortably and that's what mattered.

ll

The smell of bacon met her nose and Lydia sat up slowly, stretching and yawning. As she got up, her feet pressed down on a pair of shoes that hadn't been there the night before. Memories from Stiles comforting her in the middle of the night had her shoot up from the bed in excitement and she quickly pulled her panties on before racing down the stairs.

He was standing near Melissa at the counter piling food onto his plate before looking up and making eye contact with her. A piece of bacon fell from his mouth as it dropped open at the sight of Lydia and she ran forward, throwing her arms around him in a warm embrace.

Melissa gave him a knowing smile over red hair and she shared a look with Michael before the two took their coffees and plates to eat in the back patio, leaving Stiles and Lydia alone. The petite girl in his arms pulled away and gave him a small smile. "I thought I had just dreamt you here."

Despite the fact his ears were red and the vision of Lydia in nothing but his jersey, displaying a lot more of her legs he was used to, was permanently housing itself behind his eyelids, he grinned crookedly at her. "Nope, no dreams of a particular handsome Sergeant cuddling you. Just the real thing."

"Sergeant?" Lydia's eyes widened, her smile growing larger.

"Uh, yeah. Got promoted a while back." He admitted with a sheepish grin.

Lydia lightly punched his arm and pouted adorably. "And you didn't tell me?"

"Ow!" He cried dramatically, gripping his arm. "It was going to be a surprise."

"Well, consider me surprised." She told him, "I mean, to appoint someone like you in charge? Yolo County must really desperate for supervisors."

Stiles moved his hand to his chest in mock affront. "I resent that! I'll have you know I am a great Sergeant for my department! I solve cases and everything."

The word case dimmed Lydia's smile a bit but she didn't lose her joy over seeing Stiles. She gripped his forearm gently and let her gaze linger on his honey colored eyes. "I'm really happy you're here."

"I missed you, too." He pulled her for another embrace before grabbing a piece of bacon and holding it up to her face. Lydia let out an amused breath and grabbed the meat before popping it into her mouth with a satisfying crunch.

"Come on," she said grabbing his coffee and the plate he'd prepared for her. "Tell me all about your promotion."

ll

_38 hours later_

"You know," Stiles started, observing his surroundings cautiously while he and Lydia roamed the thicket of the preserve. "This is not how I envisioned my first vacation. I mean, yeah sure you're here but we are most definitely not at Bora Bora, and you are not in a bikini."

Lydia rolled her eyes and focused on the sounds around her. Raised in preparation were two .45 acp handguns in each hand, ready to fire should a homicidal werewolf decide to surprise them. When first getting out of Stiles' old jeep, he had protested her use of weapons. Her response? _"Stiles, there's a lot that's changed since you've been home."_

"You don't think it would've been smart to, I don't know, wait for Derek to text back? You know, before diving in on a suicide mission?" He spoke up again, also holding his glock up and making sure Lydia didn't leave his sight.

Lydia ignored him. She knew the alpha was there; she could _feel_ him. Narrowing her eyes, she jogged forward, hearing Stiles' sharp intake of breath and snappy tone. "Right. Let's ignore Stiles and his professional training in tracking down a murderer. Smart."

"Not just a murderer," She bit out, "A werewolf serial killer."

Stiles glanced at her worriedly. He wasn't used to this Lydia. This Lydia who wore combat boots and jeans with a tank top, not a lace or collar to be found. No design or frills. Not that it was _bad_. Just different.

He wasn't complaining. Just worried.

"Wait!" She whisper shouted, eyes widening at the sound of a twig snapping ahead of them. Both froze when two red slits glowed in the darkness six feet away from them before a howl erupted from the creatures throat and he pounced.

Without warning, Lydia began to fire off her bullets while backing up and pushing Stiles out of the creature's way. "Stiles!" She screamed at him while the two kept firing. _"Run!"_

While the wolf stumbled with the assault of bullets, breathing heavily and healing himself, the two took the small moment of opportunity to run and reload their weapons. Behind them, they could hear an outraged roar and Stiles' grabbed Lydia's arm, hurrying them through the thicket. "_Shit_!"

"Slow down, Stiles!" Lydia yelled, wrestling out of his grip. "We can't lose him!"

Stiles' eyes bulged and he looked at her incredulously. "You're joking, right? Because that's the only thing I wanna do right now, IS lose him!"

Before she could respond, she was knocked to the ground and released an anguished scream as fangs bit and tore into her shoulder. Stiles blinked at the scene that had unfolded so quickly before him and he felt the feeling of ice in his chest at Lydia's scream. A second later, he raised his gun with new found determination to eliminate the beast and grit his teeth, shooting a round of bullets into the creature. "Son of a-"

Lydia inhaled shakily, the feeling of nausea hitting her hard. Her vision was fuzzy but she snapped into reality when she heard Stiles grunt in pain. The beast had clawed at his chest and threw his roughly into a nearby tree. Fangs bared and glistening with blood, _her blood, he thought painfully_, it closed in on him.

Stiles slumped forward feeling a sharp sensation in his chest each time he took a breath. He must've broken a rib, he thought wearily as he lifted his head watching helplessly as the creature crept toward him, sealing his fate. His head felt heavy on his shoulders and he sent a prayer that Lydia would make it out of the situation safely.

_Lydia_.

He looked over toward her and his breath caught in his throat as she stood up with what looked like much effort. His throat betrayed him as it closed in fear as he watched her pull two daggers from her boots and grab the wolf's attention back to her._** No, what?! Lydia**_! He wanted to scream. But all he managed was a mangled cough.

"Don't you dare touch him, you flea infested dog!" Lydia called out, ignoring the feeling of fire rushing through her body and the sound of her blood pumping in her ears. She raised her daggers up, twirling them in her fingers quickly to familiarize herself with the grip. "You want me? Come and get me!"

The alpha narrowed his eyes and sneered before reaching out to strike her once more. Lydia sidestepped his attack and let out a yell before throwing the knife toward his face. Unfortunately, he was too fast and he dodged the weapon as it implanted itself in the bark of a tree behind him.

Lydia was undeterred and she calculated a position where she wouldn't miss. Ignoring the wave of nausea at her pace, she jogged backwards purposely hitting her back against a tree and feigning surprise, hoping the wolf would think she'd trapped herself.

"No, Lydia!" She heard Stiles call out painfully.

Lydia clenched her jaw, widening her eyes as the alpha approached her like a cat ready to devour a mouse and just as he was about to slash her throat, she raised her dagger and shoved it between his eyes, letting out a battle cry. The warm spray of blood coated her face as she pulled the blade out and pushed it down a second time before bringing her leg up and kicking the creature with all the strength she could muster in the chest and sending him to the floor.

She fell to the ground, the dizziness catching up with her before crawling toward one of her guns and shooting him in the chest where his heart was. It hurt her, knowing there was a person behind this form, but she numbed herself to the thought, not ready to head down that road this moment.

Another cough broke the silence and Lydia snapped back to reality. She tossed her gun to the side and crawled toward Stiles, feeling the cold dirt stick to her sweat covered palms. Spots began to appear in her vision and her breathing was becoming more and more labored. But instead of throwing herself into a frenzied panic, Lydia remained as calm as she could. Having been bit before she knew her body would reject the bite and its sting, however that didn't mean she was immune to the painful effects. "Stiles,"

"L-l-"

"Shh," She told him, kneeling before him and pushing her forehead against his with a grimace. "Y-you're going to be..." She coughed, feeling warm liquid on her lips and the taste of copper on her tongue. "..you're going to be fine."

The sight of blood being coughed up from Lydia's mouth brought Stiles out of his haze and he pulled his phone out slowly, before speed dialing his father. "You're hurt." He rasped, lifting his hand up weakly to cup her cheek.

Lydia didn't respond and Stiles used all his energy to push her body away from his, the sharp pain in his ribs blinding his vision momentarily at his action. "No," He mumbled, his heart picking up speed when he realized Lydia's eyes were closed and her breathing was shallow. Determination and adrendaline coursed through him and he stood and lifted Lydia in his arms before howling in agony at his body's protest to the movement and weight. "It's okay, Lyds. H-hold..on.."

He went as fast as he physically could before the beautiful sights of red and blue illuminated through the brush of green around them and he heard his father call out his name. Deciding not to exert his energy, he remained silent and willed himself to keep moving forward. Unfortunately, his body was rejecting his adamant urge to keep running and he felt his knees buckle, sending both him and Lydia into the cold, unforgiving dirt.

_Lydia_, he thought feeling his vision blur. Before he blacked out, the face of a familiar deputy met his vision. Then darkness.

ll

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

_23 Hours Later _

Lydia pulled her purse off her shoulder, careful of the bandages covering it and retrieved her keys. She had planned on staying longer with Stiles at the hospital but Derek had practically kicked her out, and forced her to go home to get some rest.

He wasn't hurt too badly, just a couple fractured ribs but still the sight of Stiles slumped over and pale rattled her nerves more than she cared to admit. She inhaled deeply as she tossed her purse unceremoniously on the nearby recliner and flopped onto the couch, briefly scanning all the work she needed to get to that was piled up on the coffee table.

Kira was always making fun of her because despite having a desk in her bedroom, Lydia always worked better in the living room with everything scattered around her. _And besides_, Lydia would argue back to her friend, _the stacks of reading and textbooks made it impossible to write on the desk anyway. _

Thinking of her friend, Lydia pulled out her phone from her pocket and shot her and Scott a quick text, letting them know she and Stiles were okay and she'd call them in the morning. Lydia also checked her emails, and smiled fondly when she opened five of them from her mother, all with attachments of photos from her honeymoon with her new stepfather. She looked happy, and that made Lydia happy.

She must have started to doze off, because the sound of knocking on her door had her spring off the couch, her shoulder flaring in pain at the sudden movement and she instantly reached for the gun secured under the coffee table when the knocking turned into banging.

Glancing at the clock, her grip tightened when she saw how late it was. 3:42 a.m.

"Lydia, it's me! Open up!" A familiar voice called out, muffled by the door.

She instantly relaxed and unlocked the door, opening it to reveal a weary looking Stiles. He grinned sheepishly at her before raising his eyebrow when he spotted the gun. "Is this a regular thing now? I mean, you and weapons? Can I call you Black Widow? By the way, did you know your door is like _bright_ yellow?"

Lydia rolled her eyes and fought off a smile while closing and locking the door behind her. "Stiles, what are you doing here?"

He made himself comfortable, walking over to the fridge and bending down to rummage. "What? I can't see how you're doing? We nearly died yesterday if you don't remember."

"I'm aware." She deadpanned, shooing him away from the fridge and taking out ingredients to make his favorite - french toast. "And I'm fine. I should be asking you how you are seeing as you took the brunt of it."

Stiles sat down on the bar stool across the counter and watched as she eased into her cooking. He briefly imagined her in an apron, without the bloodstained bandages and him helping her cook dinner like a family. He shook the thought away when he realized she was looking at him expectantly, slight concern coloring her features. "Sorry, what?"

Lydia's brows furrowed and she lowered the whisk. "I asked if you're okay. You don't have a concussion, do you?"

"No," Stiles shook his head before reaching up to lightly place his hand on his flannel covered chest. "Just the ribs."

She stared at him a moment longer before nodding and continuing her task. For having defeated an evil, homicidal alpha, she looked more devastated than the day prior with her student's death. Tapping his fingers on the granite counter top he tilted his head and studied her.

Her hair was falling out messily from its bun, her tank top was crusted with dried blood and her jeans were somewhat torn and stained with dirt and grass. But those were all trivial. It was the frown on her face, and the darkened bags under her eyes that had him worried. She looked so _tired_. Standing up, he stepped behind her and placed his hand over hers, feeling her stiffen as their bodies were so close, they were barely pressed up against one another. "Lydia, what's wrong?"

Her shoulder's sagged and she gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles turning white before she spoke softly. "Do you think it's always going to be this way?"

He didn't need to ask what she was talking about. He knew. He knew because he'd wondered the same thing.

She continued, "That normality isn't in the cards for us? That we'll always be involved of some type of horror-esque type television show where the bad guys come in and are replaced by more bad guys?"

Stiles frowned and moved his hand to brush the fallen hair strands away from her face, bringing them back around her neck. "I don't know." He told her honestly. He heard her make a small noise of disappointment and spoke again, "What I _do_ know, however, is that we've all got each other. We're in this together, Lydia. As corny as that sounds, and I'll remind you that I am not above corny."

He felt a small victory when he heard her chuckle and very gently grabbed her uninjured shoulder to turn her around so she was facing him. Her eyes, _god_ her eyes were so wide and full of expression - so reminiscent of the night in high school where he'd played with that red string around her finger. "We're always going to have each other, Lyds. We're pack."

Lydia felt a fondness and something much more heavy and unexplainable pull at her insides from the way Stiles spoke and looked at her. So, with that as good a reason as any, Lydia reached up slowly and pulled his face to hers, slanting her lips across his in a rhythmic motion.

He hadn't been expecting it, but he wasn't a stupid teenage anymore, and he was going to savor this moment before losing coherent thought as the sound of Lydia moan reverberated through his very being.

They moved methodically around each other, already so intimate from their friendship. They were mindful of the other's wounds and slowly made their way to the bedroom before Lydia stopped them, pulling away with swollen lips and flushed cheeks. God, she looked heavenly, Stiles thought.

A heat was pooling in between her legs and Lydia knew their build up was to blame. Years of soft touches, tender looks, and tethered connections had Lydia yearning in both day and night for this moment to happen. Sure, they both went out on the occasional date, but maybe deep down nothing ever got further because they knew eventually they'd both end up here. With each other.

And when they became one, it was slow and meaningful. Stiles had filled her in both body and soul. Every part of her felt warm and whole. Their rhythm started off with long, almost insufferable strides before breathless pleads for him to move faster spurred him into a more frenzied pace. He talked gruffly to her coos and contented sighs. _"So beautiful."_,_ "Perfects, Lyds. God, so perfect." _

When she came, she clenched around him and shuddered. Her mouth in a perfect 'O' shape before mewling his name in an almost reverent manner. "**_Stiles_**,"

Hearing his name fall from those pink pouted lips like that, so breathless and everything and more of how he imagined it, Stiles followed right after, feeling her clench around him as he grunted and fell to his side behind her.

He felt his eyelids droop and wrapped his arm around her midsection, his stomach fluttering when she cuddled closer to him. Despite being sleepy, he forced himself to stay awake for as long as he possibly could, not wanting to miss a moment of Lydia in the afterglow of their lovemaking. She was glowing in a way that had he _not_ already thought her a goddess, this moment certainly would have him assuming she was not just a banshee but an ethereal creature, hand made from the gods themselves in their image.

Lydia hummed contentedly as Stiles large, calloused hand rubbed small circles against her belly. "We left the stove on."

"So the kitchen burns down, nothing to fret over."

Lydia rolled her eyes and turned over to peck his nose. "What? No post-coital french toast?"

A growl in his stomach betrayed the exhaustion he felt and he groaned into the pillow as Lydia stood up, not bothering to cover up as she walked out the room and presumably into the kitchen. He felt himself stir at the sight of her and the air of confidence she'd always exuded. Except now it flowed from her in waves of maturity and not in conceitedness, which was a million times more attractive to him.

After he pulled his boxers on, he stepped out of bedroom and pouted when he saw her wearing a green silken robe, while putting the bread on the pan. The sounds of sizzle and the fan of the oven were enough to knock the breath out of Stiles on just how domestic everything felt. And suddenly, it was gone and the feeling of sadness swept over him when he realized he had to go back to Davis in a few days.

"Sooo," He drug out the word, pushing his wild hair back against his head. Lydia gave him a look and he raised his hands in mock surrender with a small laugh. Okay, so no small talk, he thought before studying the apartment. It'd been over a year since he'd been here and there was a nice cozy, lived in feel. "How's living with Kira going?" He asked looking over the books on the book shelf before smirking affectionately at the mountain of text books and papers on the coffee table. Bending over and wincing at the protest his ribs gave, he lifted up a text book and felt his eyebrows raise.

Turning around to face her, he lifted the text book and gave her an amused look. "Why, may I ask, do you have three text books about Mythology?" He opened it from the middle and began to flip through the pages. "Just a bit of light reading?"

Lydia pursed her lips before feeling them curl upward at his teasing tone, comforted by this familiar banter. "Actually, I've been doing some extra courses to get my Doctorate." She smiled as his face lit up in pride and awe.

"Wow." He smiled, setting the book down and walking toward her as she plated the food. "So, you'll be Doctor Martin? For mythology?"

"Well, _technically_ I'll be studying for a PhD in 'Mythological Studies with Emphasis in Depth Psychology', 'Chemical and Biochemical Engineering' and a Master's in Linguistic's." She told him casually, with a wave of her fork.

Stiles felt his jaw drop and blinked when she grinned and patted his cheek before sitting down next to him with her food. He shook his head and stared at her warmly. "I don't know whether to be turn on by your insane amount of intelligence or intimidated."

She shrugged good naturedly, before taking a bite of french toast. "Why not both?"

They shared a laugh before Stiles leaned down to kiss her. It was done so naturally, like they'd done it a million times before and she felt a pleasant flutter in her chest at the thought. His eyes, vibrant and tender, colored like warm honey, flickered over her face. "I'm so proud of you, Lydia. You really are going to win that Fields Medal one day and blow everyone away with your talent and contributions to society. I always knew you were an unstoppable force."

Like always, Stiles' compliments invigorated her and awakened the spark that sometimes dimmed when she burnt herself out. "Well, I love teaching and I love my students. But I also love learning new things, so why not soak up everything I can? Push myself to be the best version of myself I can be?"

"Grade teacher by day, bad-ass genius banshee by night." Stiles shook his head dramatically. "I don't think the world is prepared."

Lydia flipped her hair and put her fork down before gathering the empty plates to soak in the sink. "Well, good thing I don't wait around for the world."

ll

Stiles threw his duffel bag in the back seat of his jeep and waved once more to his dad and Melissa as he pulled out from the drive way. He felt homesick already and he wasn't even out of Beacon Hills yet. He wished he could stay longer, but he needed to get back to work and he wasn't due for a transfer in Departments until August.

With the window rolled down, Stiles inhaled deeply, loving the way fresh pine overwhelmed his senses. He pulled into the school, his last stop before he left entirely, and noticed the empty parking lot. _Looks like everyone's eager to start their summer vacation_, he thought before smiling fondly at a memory of him and Scott racing out the doors years ago, excitedly talking about new adventures they planned to have over their summer break.

Getting out of the car, he walked into the school's entrance and tried to remember the directions Lydia told him to get to her classroom. He paused at the sound of music and followed the piano keys of Claude Debussy. He felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of her, sitting at her desk, her laptop in front of her with her head down as she graded a stack of papers.

She was wearing a coral button down tank top, with a grey cardigan slung over the chair and a gray pencil skirt with matching coral pumps. Her hair was pulled in a messy side braid with flowers embedded in them, which caused Stiles to wonder if she placed them there herself or if it was the work of her students. But what really set the picture were the large rounded glasses that rested on the bridge of her nose.

Walking up, he knocked lightly, startling her. When Lydia saw it was Stiles, a smile blossomed on her face and he felt his heart pick up speed and his hands get clammy. He hadn't felt this rush since high school and he couldn't contain the dorky, lopsided grin that stretched across his face. "Hey." He greeted, rubbing the back of his neck as she took her glasses off and placed them in her purse.

Lydia closed her laptop and placed it along with her stack of papers in her bag before she stood up and grabbed her cardigan. She walked over to him and pressed a lingering kiss on his mouth, feeling the heat his body was emitting. "I'm glad you stopped to say goodbye."

"I would never leave without saying goodbye to you, Lyds." He said affectionately as she wove her fingers into his. They walked out to the parking lot and stopped when they reached her car. "I wish I didn't have to leave at all."

"It's only a couple months." She tried to encourage him. He ran his hands over her waist and kissed her deeply, relishing the moans and mewls she was making while storing them in a special place in his mind for future use. He pushed her against the car and groaned into her mouth when he felt a bump covering park of her upper thigh. "A- _mm_\- Are you wearing a _holster_?"

Lydia nodded against his mouth, grinning. "Mmhm."

Stiles groaned and moved his hands up to grip her bottom as he pushed his hips into her. "Fuck, that.. that is so hot, Lydia."

Lydia giggled. _Giggled_.

His heart soared.

After a few minutes of heavy petting and making out, they reluctantly pulled apart at the sounds of both their phones vibrating. Lydia looked at her screen, lips still tingling. "It's my mom. I'll call her back when I get home."

"Kira." Stiles said, pocketing his phone. "She said she's on her way back and to tell you she bought you a souvenir."

Lydia chuckled and rubbed her arm, feeling bereft already of his leaving. Opening her car door, she crawled in and rolled the window down, kissing his lips again when he leaned against the frame and stuck his head in. "I have a proposition for you, Stilinski."

Stiles raised a brow at her playful tone. "And what might that be, Miss Martin?"

"I propose..." She drawled out, "When you move back in a couple months, we go on a date."

Stiles' eyes widened and he smiled brilliantly at her, easing her nervousness of being blunt. "I reject your proposal and raise you multiple dates."

"Deal." Lydia smiled before smiling sadly. "I really have to go now. I need to go feed Prada. She hasn't eaten since yesterday."

"I better get going as well." He pouted, earning another chaste kiss. He leaned forward and buried his nose in her hair, letting his lips linger on her forehead before pulling away. "Please stay safe."

"Of course." She smirked as she started the car. "Call me when you get home."

He nodded and watched as she pulled out and drove away, a heavy sigh leaving his chest. The butterfly sensation was still there and he recounted the night before and Lydia asking him out before he jogged to his jeep and drove away. It wasn't until he was out of Beacon Hills that he let out a laugh, feeling care free and alive and...

_In love._

He gripped the steering wheel before making a very illegal u-turn and high tailing it back to Beacon Hills.

ll

Stiles parked sloppily on the street and rushed to Lydia's front door, knocking loudly while fidgeting restlessly. A woman stood near the street as her dog sniffed around the grassy area, and he gave a curt nod before knocking again. His nerves were all over the place but he didn't care. This was it. After sixteen years of being in love with Lydia Martin, it was now or never.

The yellow door opened and instead of surprise or shock, Lydia just looked relieved as she pulled him down for a searing kiss. "_Finally_." She groaned, "I thought you'd never come back."

Stiles chuckled and cupped her face between his strong hands, "I figure, I can spare a couple more days, right? I'm the Sergeant, after all."

"Absolutely." Lydia agreed breathlessly, running her fingers through his messy locks.

"I love you, Lydia." Stiles spoke quickly, rushed. Expelling the air from his lungs. "I dont know if you fe- nnnf!"

"Idiot." She whispered fondly as her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know.. love you, too."

Not another word was spoken and they clung to each other, tongues moving together and breathless moans dissipating into the air. With a swift kick from Stiles, the bright yellow door shut with a loud _slam_. The woman with her dog blushed furiously as the red burlap wreath fell from its nail and she hurriedly rushed her dog along.

_"This is why you don't eavesdrop, Anette." _


End file.
